MY HUGSBAND is SO Skinny and ANOTHER TRAIL RACE REPORT

Yes, I did say hugs-band.  The poor skinny guy.  Ultra training is taking it's toll.   He picked me up at the Carlsbad Airport this morning and I hardly recognized him.  5 days away and the cat didn't play, he just RAN and Ran and ran...some more.  Twice yesterday.  Thank goodness he fueled after his twenty miler with some nutritious, vitamin-laden treats from Whole Foods.  Not.  He hit up Oggies pizza and invited "friend" over to watch the basketball game and then they devoured the entire order:

Hugsband's Ultra is about a month away.  I have visions of fattening him up before the big day but honestly, I'm not sure it's possible.  Two a days have a way of burning up every single vitamin, mineral, fat cell and calorie within minutes of finishing.  Ah, the trails of an ultra widow....with a husband both thinner and lighter than she.

The joke is that I'm not really an ultra widow.  I've been spinning my own web of fun and headed out to visit my BIF(bad influence friend) for fun, adventures and trail racing in Colorado Springs.  BIF is also known as  the founder of ...RAWHIDE.  A mix of princess, diamonds, moxie and toughness.  In elementary school,  BIF was a playground enigma. She held her own, a princess always ready for a fight.  Not a mean girl, no, just a gal that carried her head high.    I worshipped her from afar.  In junior high, we had some tough classes together; she never studied, I studied my brains out.  In high school,  she drove her mother to drink and we walked "the edge" more times than I can count. At the age of 18, she MADE me call my now-hugsband and ask him out!   In college,  we sealed the deal and became close friends.  College, marriages, babies, deaths of family members, surgeries, family drama,  another marriage...today at almost 48,  she is still my BIF and we practice "RAWHIDE...the noun" as much as possible.  On Sunday, that meant ME heading to Colorado Springs to do some mountain trail running at 6000 feet with NO, NO, NO elevation training and having taken a week of tapering(non-voluntary)before the trip.  Mind you,  I live AT SEA LEVEL, basically 3/4 mile from the beach.

Beautiful things unfold when Rawhide happens.  BIF ran her first trail 5k, mostly cheering for every single person she saw and crossed the finished line pain free.  Her plantar facitis was obsolete.  I ran the trail 12k and pr'd by 3 minutes.  The course was TOUGH, steep and in the MOUNTAINS,  so I ran relaxed, happy and free.  Sure, I had a pounding headache that finally ended once my plane landed back in San Diego, but RAWHIDE sees you through the tough times.  My legs felt strong, my cardio was spot on and heck,  we all know how affective a good six day taper can be to a 48 year old!

So,  life back here in San Diego goes on.  I celebrate my win in Colorado within...I felt so happy to have finished a challenge and a goal that was out of the ordinary.  The trail run the following day(pictures above)was my medal...my gift...my reward.

 I've found myself needing some new adventures this year and I've had a burning desire to set some new, higher goals for myself in running this year.  I'm not sure what that means just yet but I have signed up for a fall marathon with my HUGSBAND and once he recovers from sheer skinniness,  I'll have him out there training and "RAWHIDING" with me(the verb)once again.

Just wondering,  do any of you have a BIF?  Isn't it fun?!?  Do tell...

Keep on 'movin, 'movin, 'movin forward and happy running,
meg

Elephant Mountain Cave Creek Arizona Race Report

Our Arizona Race Trip really began after we took off our shoes and toasted our toes at our hotel which was about 15 miles from our race.

Fric and Frac made the six hour trip with us and were nothing but COMEDY the whole time.  What could be better for me than to ride in the car for six hours with three men who "sometimes" have the humor of 12 year old boys someone half their age.  I did laugh...a lot.

Race day started at 5:00 a.m.  We headed off into the 32 degree chill and encountered over 20 Ragnar Relay racers with headlamps and safety vests.  I don't know why but I felt their "pain" and their joy, namely their joy.  Who else would CHOOSE to run in the early morning, dark  chill for a charity but a beautiful runner?  I had a "moment" in the car.  My "moments" often signal a promise for a good race.  Some how,  just connecting with that "why I'm out here doing this..., "as in running...just gives me that EXTRA push to cherish and appreciate.  

Live life to it's fullest.  Such a cliche and, yet, true.

Dumb and Dumber  Fric and Frac,  started their 50k at 7:00 a.m.  They were Ultra Virgins at that hour and within 5 hours for one and 7 for the other,  were christened ULTRA RUNNERS.  As always, their advanced twelve year old sense of humor fit right in with the ULTRA SCENE and I think they maybe hooked.  I could be wrong but I did see the familiar **eerie ultra smile**that I've witnessed at a few ultras lately...on EVERYONE'S face.  They had it.

Boy Scout and I set off at 8:30 and raced a mere 12k.  It was one of the rockiest,  most technical races I've done yet.  SO, of course,  I LOVED it.  I have so much confidence in my Brooks Cascadia trail shoes that it's almost scary.  They have so much flexibility that I can almost run over the tops and tips of rocks and small boulders without even touching any dirt.  There were lots of falls today so maybe I was just lucky...

Today I ran in respect to a family who lost their son to a tragic situation.  He was mentally ill,  addicted to drugs and had been through so much  during his 23 years on this planet.  Our trip to Arizona seemed frivolous in comparison to what my friend's family had been experiencing this last week.

My race today was up steep and unforgiving hills,  the trails were lined with huge cactus and the trails were rocky.  Evan's life had reflected the challenges of this desert habitat.

Yet, stepping away from "the race,"  we experienced the BEAUTY of the desert and all it has to offer. Challenges and, yet, Sweetness.

I decided to run this race by attacking the challenges in a way that I hadn't before,  on behalf of Evan who didn't have the means nor opportunities to attack life in a healthy way.
That meant taking the hills confidently, calmly and with confidence.
That also meant flying down hill, over the quartz trails and rocky terrain,  trusting that my next step would lead me to something even better than the last.
Trusting.

My second inspiration for this race came from a wonderful article I read this week by Dax, a local ultra runner.  His perspective on women and beauty is remarkable.
www.dirtyrunning.blogspot.com

Women tend to fret about their looks, their weight, their clothing, their skin...
as I get older,  I tend to  see the beauty in others that stands out the most...
sincerity
honesty
integrity
love
warmth
toughness
being happy with oneself in everyday

I ran feeling just a little more beautiful today and I definitely had the appreciation for life and living...

...AND I KEPT THROWING UP!

Well,  let's just say that the throwing up didn't stop after the race.  In fact,  I was presenting to fifteen teachers in a neighboring school district the following Tuesday after the race.  I had felt alright on Monday and by 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning,  I was setting up a little "throw up" stand behind an easel next to the teacher's desk.  That was PLAN B, just in case I didn't make it down the hall, out the door, across the playground, back into the office and down the hall to the teachers' restroom.

Guess what happened?  Plan A.  I tore down the hall, made it through the office, heaving the whole way.  I wound up in the restroom,  just in time.  IT WAS THE SINGLE MOST EMBARRASSING moment of my profession as teachers stared at me...we were dropping like flies!  We all abandoned the day and I went home to sleep for three hours.

Two days later, I was back to my usual FUN and GAMES and recovered from my race.  One of my proudest moments was helping Sparkle Pants pick out his first "manufactured" Halloween costume in the middle of February.  He is CRAZY about all super heroes and choose a Captain America costume from Party City.  It wasn't until I got home and we attempted to watch a few Captain America videos off of You Tube that I realized that this "vintage" cartoon is really pretty racist,  violent and riddled with tanks,  weapons and everything else that Sparkle Pants' parents abhor.  MAN,  I'M ALWAYS IN THE DOG HOUSE AROUND here when it comes to Sparkle Pants.

Too much sugar!
Nasty Halloween costumes!
Gluten products!
Action Figures!
Late bed times!
Too much pretend and role playing...

Geesh, being a grandma is NOT easy.  I didn't realize I was going to have to play by everyone else rules..

Time for me to grow up...or not.

Happy Running, stay safe!
meg

I Threw Up On My Garmin

My WILD and WOOLY trail race was buckets of fun on Sunday!  It started with me getting car sick(?)on my way to the race.  Boy Scout/50 Miler Man pulled over on the free way and I promptly covered my mouth with my wrist(OK, who does THAT?)and threw up on my Garmin,  out onto the freeway.  I had some "reserve" toilet paper in my bag(because I roll like that at races, you just NEVER know)and wiped my watch but forgot to get the watchband.  GAK!  Throughout the race, like every tenth of a mile,  I'd get a whiff of my stomach contents and want to heave all over again.  BUT...I just ran.
And ran...
And ran...

When I got to the MOUNTAIN of 1,000 Steps,  I started to hike and the Boob behind me started talking about eating NACHOS at his upcoming SUPER BOWL party.  BLECH and GAK once again!
"Should I have guacamole or just beans?"  "Sour cream?"  "Which has more calories, beans or guacamole?"  I was SO ready to snap at him but the thought of turning around on the steep incline and accidentally "seeing" what I had just climbed freaked me out so I kept working on the hill.  The thought of food sent me up the hill faster,  you can't really throw up while you are straddling a boulder and trying to climb step # 345.   I'm not saying I conquered my GOAL of NOT WALKING the hills but I did strut my stuff trying to get away from Boob.

Once reaching the top,  I realized that it was about 80 degrees and this was the SECOND time I had run a race in the heat--this winter--and it made me laugh.  Rocks, heat, vomit, guacamole,  slippery down hills...what could I do but laugh?  This is just another reason I love adore trail running.  YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT'S AROUND THE NEXT CORNER.  You can never predict what's going to happen once you get to the top of a mountain.  This element of surprise keeps me on my toes and makes me embrace the unpredictable.

I finished the race.  Was I sick?  Did I run with stomach flu?  Food poisoning?  Car sick?  Who knows but I ran with all that was within and a little of what was on the freeway and ended up with a PR by seconds...one that I had set four years ago.  It made me happy to know that getting OLDER, getting sick and getting over the guacamole has only made me stronger.

Bring on the hills, bring on the trails, bring on the fun.

By the way,  my Garmin isn't holding a charge,

Meg

My Recent Obsession

Boy Scout has almost recovered from the body trauma and mental tribulations from his 50 miler.  He is now jogging a bit and plotting his next move for his 50 miler on May 11th.  Let the fun begin once again!

My plotting involves more technical trail races for the rest of the spring and maybe a fun half-marathon.  I have become obsessed with racing the Xterra race series and trying to stay at the top of my game with 15k races and some 21k races.  The trails always prove to challenge my legs and stamina like no other type of running.  I also LOVE the downhill technical trail running.  Trails like the one in the photo above make me quiver...I feel like a horse/goat/rabbit...trying to find a "safe" way down the hill while maintaining a 7:30 pace.  I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT FALLING AT ALL in this post, so I won't.    The BIGGEST challenge has been hill climbing which I enjoy but find SO frustrating.  I really don't want to walk but the steepness of some of the trails makes this impossible.  Grrr...I have a lot of mental images that I access when I feel like walking;  I picture my legs churning and churning like a well-oiled machine.  Sometimes,  I just stare at the top of the hill and imagine myself being pulled up by the runners in front of me.  This works and doesn't work.  I just want to make it more consistent.

Next week,  I race locally, an Xterra Mission Trails run.  It has a mountain called 1000 Steps, and it is.  I had *FUN* on the rocky trails the last time I did this race and two weeks ago we ran it as training.  I was able to run every hill except the 1000 Steps trail itself.  I have big plans for this weekend...NO WALKING.  There, I said it out loud(really, my dog heard me).

I might place in these races and sometimes I win(because I'm a "mature age grouper")but that's not what matters to me...tackling these CHALLENGES has consumed me and I love picking some mini/major goals like NOT WALKING,  NOT TAKING A POTTY BREAK,  STAYING STRONG and AGGRESSIVE the whole way.   I have found these goals to be the best kind and although they don't revolve around a time or pace,  they do keep me moving forward.

Marathons and half marathons are still on the calendar but for now,  my OBSESSION keep me growing and getting stronger.

What are your OBSESSIONS with your running?  What keeps you motivated to press on?

Have a great last week of January,
meg

50 Miler was a Smiler...

At the risk of being called a Front'er...one who puts up the iron curtain and avoids telling you all of the bubbly, ugly, smelly, brewing trouble in my cauldron...I get out the gore right away.

It wasn't an easy race.

There were dark and dreary moments despite the HOT 83-85 degree weather.

Chunks and liquids were hurled right out in the open.

Walking too place, lots of walking.

Hills were exposed to the sun, switchbacks were present.

It was ugly at times.

However, true to form,  thanks to the way our BRAINS operate,  good times were had by all.

Inspiration was everywhere!

70 years olds finished 50 milers with smiles on their faces.

In fact,  there wasn't one fifty miler that didn't have a smile on their face.  Practically, the whole time.  Maybe they were "front'n" but it was weird and eerie,  they all seemed SO happy to be out there in the heat, water on hand or on back,  tossing back salt tabs like candy and chatting it up with each other and the volunteers.

My husband rose 50 notches in my book of notches...which actually takes quite a lot.  My book is pretty full and running out of pages since we've been together almost(29 years...in a few months).  Anyway,  he was pretty calm the whole time.  Here's a quick review of his fueling stops/miles in increments of 10 miles:

Start:  He's happy of course!  It's a chilly thirty-something degrees but most runners are in shorts since they've read the weather report for weeks.

10 Mile Mark:

Smiles all around.  He cruises through, stops for a clothing change, sheds his heart rate monitor and we exchange his fuel bottle.  He eats a BONK BREAKER and washes it down with regular water.  Kisses  take place and he's off. 

 On his way!

Mile 15 was a miss for us since I was watching a friend run the trail marathon!

Mile 20 was the one on the hill, set under some oak trees for shade and lots of long grass.  Steve ate another Bonk Breaker, drank water and we exchanged bottles.  Pretty low key, he was still smiling.

Mile 30 was before this dam in Escondido.  It's like a desert out there and this is where my car thermometer read 85 degrees.  The runners running up this trail weren't talking, weren't running and were pretty ticked off.  I heard a few choice mutters as I cheered them on:

"Hmm, this is where this race gets interesting."

"OMG, do you have any water and can you pour it over my whole body?"

"How hot is it right now?  If feels like someone is slapping my neck."

Steve started to have ISSUES here.  He was cramping from the hills and switchbacks and he wasn't eating or drinking anything.  He kept walking as I passed him some roll on BIOFREEZE which seemed to work until the next aide station.  

No smiles here.

Mile 35

Pure hell.  No tears but plenty of barfing and drama.  We surrounded him and tried to get him to eat solid foods.  He drank coconut water and various sodas and then promptly threw them up.  I played BAD COP and tried to keep him walking since that was our agreement and MY PART in this whole ting...the nasty who kept him walking.  I would hold up his water bottles and food and sort of wave it around, catch his eye and then start walking backwards...sort of the proverbial carrot thing.  IT worked.  

We sent him off at mile with a prayer and some advice...hoping he'd listen or COULD listen.

Mile 40

More darkness.  More cramping and more loss of liquids from more than one hole.  No smiles but still, a determination in his step.  

Mile 45

This stop was hidden right before the last hill so we never got to it.  I heard that this is where it all turned around for him.  He ate some watermelon, drank and go his second wind.  THIS is what I had been hoping for since mile 30.  He's notorious for a second wind.  This one just took 20 miles to come.

Mile 50

The finish.  The waiting was excruciating.  His body first appeared as he left the tree clumps past the dairy.  HE WAS RUNNING.  Actually running.  I ran out and couldn't stop myself from jumping up and down and crying.  8 1/2 months following meniscus surgery, he pulls this off and FINISHES.  What an ending.

Has the training been easy.  No.  Do I need to share the details?  NO,  let's dwell on the positives.  Sometimes NOT FRONT'N is the best thing to do...it's often best to recognize the RESULT and celebrate the beauty of the present moment, not the past.

The HAPPY ENDING?

35 finisher out of 70 finishers.  First in age group 50-59!!  10:43 finish time.

Crew...

You were all a part of THIS.  We cannon thank you enough for being our friends.  We truly *love* you all.

Happy Running,  TODO ES POSIBLE.

meg

50 Miler, 50 Miler, 50 SMILER!

Once upon a time,  a small, slight boy started running.  Perhaps away from his mother, brother or rough  little neighborhood buddies.

He ran fast.  It kept him small and skinny.

He grew...slowly.

He got tough.

In jr. high he started running to beat others.  He gained confidence.

In high school,  he ran some marathons.  He was fast.  He was still skinny.

His mom said he ate loaves of bread, drank gallons of milk right from the refrigerator.

He says he as ALWAYS hungry.  For more running.

In college, he grew his hair out.  Bleached it in the sun.  He started surfing.

Running became a memory.

Towards the end of college,  he started slam dancing.  He loved the Sex Pistols.  He cut his thick mop and opted for a mohawk.

**In Mexico, he meets a running girl.**
Yes, Mexico.
No, they don't stay there...it was a "weekend" get away that involved Hussong's and Corona's(college days, remember?).

He remembers the old days.  The hungry days.  He keeps surfing.

They marry, they have kids.  The running girl stops running.  

Mom, wife, teacher...and running doesn't have a space in her life.

He keeps surfing.

Running girl decides one day to take it up again, restore the LOVE of freedom, liberty and sweaty clothes.

Girl gets more serious and does some marathons; Rock and Roll's,  Bostons.  She has  fun.

Boy stops surfing and never looks back.  Not once.
They run together.  They compete.  They become competitive with each other in only the BEST of ways.
The have fun.  They become empty nesters...kind of.

FAST FORWARD to January 13th.
Hey, that's today!

Man tapers for his first 50 miler!!!!
He doesn't look back at his knee surgery 8 months ago.
Keeps his eyes on the finish.

Obviously, this story is NOT over.  In fact, it seems like it has just begun.

Life in the forties and fifties is looking pretty AWESOME.

ULTRA icky toe issue...

Race report next week!

New  Ultimate Direction vest...pretty light weight, room for cell phone and other treasures and treats.

He tested it out and it's pretty cool...

Happy Running...

meg